Falling in Love Again
by paroxysm03
Summary: I'd like to believe that two people who are in love are capable of falling in love with each other again and again as they go on through their lives, or as their relationship progresses. This fic will be just one-shots of their life together. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_**Before anything else, I'd like to believe that two people who are in love are capable of falling in love with each other again and again as they go on through their lives, or as their relationship progresses. These may be in the form of little gestures, actions and words. This fic will be just one-shots of Andrew and Margaret's life together, describing those 'moments' of them. Enjoy!**_

CHAPTER 1

Margaret slumped back against the cold and hard tile. She took a deep, steadying breath. She could feel the cold beads of sweat on her forehead. She wearily wiped them away and closed her eyes. _"God I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." _She repeated these words over and over again in her head like a mantra. No more than a minute passed and she felt the now familiar quenching of her stomach again, the queasy watering of her mouth, that feeling of nausea like she's gonna throw her guts out. _"Not again!"_ She lifted herself gingerly and dove for the toilet bowl, and once again retched and vomited of what was left of her dinner, if there was any left at all.

After a couple of moments, she wiped her mouth and brushed the stray hairs that fell to her face, and once again leaned on the bathroom wall. She's too weak to stand up and rinse her mouth so she decided to just lean her forehead on the cold wall and wrap her arms around her knees. _She's 6 weeks pregnant. _Pregnant. Never before in her life had she thought of herself being pregnant. But she is. She was impregnated by that tall and handsome bastard who she loved and hated deeply. She sometimes couldn't decide which of the two feelings are more dominant, but she just couldn't feel so helpless especially if this particular moment happens. It's bad enough in the mornings – whenever she would wake Andrew up by the commotion she causes as she rushes to the bathroom; the feeling of nausea is so overpowering that sometimes she couldn't even reach the sink before retching. Andrew would follow her and soothe her back and hold her hair and whisper sweet words to her until she's done. But tonight, he's not here. "_God I miss him."_ He's in a meeting with an author; he even called earlier this evening to tell her that he would be coming home late. She closed her eyes once again, and a few drops of tears fell out of her eyes. _"Goddammit Margaret! Why are you crying?" _She angrily wiped the tears away. She couldn't help but think about Andrew. She needed him here but the rational and proud side of her doesn't want him to come home yet. She hated it whenever Andrew sees her like this. She felt so vulnerable and weak. But thoughts of Andrew taking care of her are all she could think of right now. She's just so tired; she'd never been tired like this before in her whole life. She's longing for him. _"When is he coming home?"_

Margaret tried to stand up but her wobbly knees wouldn't allow her to. So she remained sitting there, enjoying the cool feeling of the bathroom tile against her face. Without realizing it, she fell asleep.

She didn't know how long she dozed off, but when she woke up she could only feel soft, warm hands caressing her face, brushing the strands of hair that had once again fallen across her forehead. She opened her eyes wearily, and she saw Andrew kneeling in front of her - worried brown eyes staring concernedly at hers.

Andrew kissed her lips softly, "Pregnancy sickness again?"

She was about to come up with a sarcastic reply when another wave of nausea flooded through her stomach. She roused herself quickly and vomited on the toilet, feeling Andrew's hand holding her hair behind her while caressing her back. "I hate this. I hate you. Do you know that? I hate you," she mumbled. Andrew kissed the top of her head and said, "Sssh. I know I know," she could just imagine the smirk playing on his lips while he said that. He pulled her back into his chest and reached around her to put a cool, wet washcloth he got from the towel rack on her forehead, and despite of herself, she leaned into his embrace as he rubbed her arms repeatedly. It was like he's trying to remove the goose bumps that have risen on her skin.

"I'll take you to bed," he whispered, and with what looked like a painless effort, he lifted her into his arms and laid her gently down on the bed. He arranged the pillows and covered her with their blanket, and then he lay down beside her and gathered her in his arms. Margaret craved this kind of contact. Andrew knew perfectly well that even though she's this crappy most of the time, at the end of the day she would always, always cuddle with him.

Andrew brushed his fingers through her hair. "How are you feeling?" he asked - a trace of concern still evident in his voice.

"Better," she mumbled sleepily. After a few moments, she added, "Tell me a story,"

"What kind of story?" he replied, rubbing Margaret's back. He knew how much she liked it whenever he does that.

"I don't know. Anything will do. Just keep talking," she answered, her head pressing firmer on his chest.

"Okay, but promise me you'll go to sleep after. You want to do 'I love it when'?" he took a glimpse on Margaret's face and found that her eyes are closed. She nodded and urged him to go on. 'I love it when" is one of their favorite games whenever one of them does not feel well, or if one of them is having a really bad day. Margaret always gets to be the recipient of this game, especially now that she experiences pregnancy sickness almost every day.

"Okay," he replied, stroking her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "I love it when you kick me out of bed during mornings, because I get to see your guilty face after that, and because you would say that you're sorry and you would proceed to tell me what nightmare you've had. I love it when you just woke up and you would go into the kitchen with your hair really messy, and you wouldn't talk to me until you've had your first sip of coffee. I love it when you smile at me across from your office – it makes me want to barge in your room and just kiss you and have my way with you. I love it when you straighten my neck tie. I love it whenever I hear you laugh. I love it whenever I see you wearing eyeglasses. I love it when you sing in the bathroom. I love it so much whenever you wear my favorite white t-shirts during the weekends. But most especially, I love it whenever I see you trying really hard to stay composed while you're having morning sickness. I want to take all of your pain away during those times; I wish that I were the one experiencing it instead of you. But I love it, because I know that inside of you, is our future son or daughter, growing bigger and stronger each day, waiting for the day when he or she would meet his mummy and daddy. Nothing makes me love you more than the thought of you carrying our child, Margaret."

Margaret lifted her eyes on him, and he touched her cheek, her nose, and her smiling lips, enjoying the fact that only he could touch her this way. And then he leaned down and kissed her softly. "I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you more," he kissed her forehead. "Now go to sleep, okay. You need to rest," he hugged her tighter and continued stroking her hair with his fingers. He didn't know how and when his world stopped revolving around himself and everything else, and when it started revolving around Margaret. All he knows is he's done for. Ever since he agreed to be her ticket to avoid deportation, he also signed himself for a crazy and gorgeous woman who he longed to spend his whole life with, who he can't stop thinking about wherever he went, who caused him both agony and bliss. This is the same woman who made him want to punch a nearby wall in frustration and who made his heart flutter like crazy during stolen kisses at the office. He looked at her face once more, he touched her face gently, and if anyone was looking at him – at the way he's looking at Margaret right now – they would think that he's gone completely _bonkers._

But he is in love – so in love. And he has never been this happy and in love in his whole life.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you, Margaret Tate, accept Andrew Paxton as your husband, and promise to love and care for him in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"

Never before in her life did Margaret been this nervous. Her hands clutching the white and yellow bouquet are now clammy and slightly trembling. She sneaked a glance at Andrew only to notice that he's looking at her too, though quite openly unlike hers. She could see a lot of things in his gaze – hope, questions, and curiosity – but not nervousness. _Is he so sure about this? _She swallowed and tore her gaze away from his. She looked directly at the priest who's now fixing her with an expectant stare because she's taking too long to answer.

Margaret didn't know why this wedding is consuming her; it's just a sham, after all. Three days ago she had the guts and the cruelty to force Andrew to marry her. And she's still amazed by the fact that Andrew is willing to sacrifice the possibilities of humiliation and degradation for her. Her. Her who did nothing but bitch him around like he's some kind of a puppy. But now, it seems like she wanted to back out. To save Andrew's remaining dignity, to spare his beautiful family of all this drama. She wanted to take back everything. But it's too late now. She had to finish what she started.

With a deep breath, she said "I do." and she heard Andrew let out a deep sigh of relief. Her heart is still pounding like crazy when the priest announced them as husband and wife. And Andrew had to hold her arm and turn her to him to be able to kiss his "bride". To her amazement, he's smiling at her. "It's okay Margaret. Everything will be fine, don't worry." He tucked a stray hair of hers on her ear and then he leaned down and gently kissed her. It was so sweet. Like he's being gentle with her, but it's also a kiss of assurance, like he's trying to convey that there are many more kisses that would happen in their future.

He smiled another dazzling smile and gently nudged her to turn to the guests. Everyone is clapping, smiling and congratulating them all of a sudden. They all seem so happy for them, especially Gammy and Grace. Gammy is wiping happy tears from her eyes and Grace herself looked like she's going to dissolve into sobs. Joe looked more composed, no doubt he's still suspicious over them. She strayed her eyes away from them and focused on Gert. She's smiling and clapping, but she can't help but notice that she has a wistful look in her eyes. A sudden realization hit Margaret before she even stopped it. _Does she still have feelings for Andrew?_ But that thought was quickly erased from her mind when she felt Andrew's hand taking hold of hers. He gripped it tightly and gave it a reassuring grip. When she looked into his eyes, it was all she could do not to let herself surrender into him. His eyes are too full of reassurance, and he is looking at her that said, "I'm here. You don't have to feel so scared." It's the kind of look that she imagined whenever she's reading romance novels. It's the kind of look the guy at the books she sneaks out at nights would give at the woman he's in love with. For a while, she let herself dream that Andrew is in love with her. But it couldn't be. He's still in love with Gertrude; at least that's what she thinks. And she was surprised at the pang of jealousy that shot through her heart. This set-up should have happened a long time ago, when Andrew and Gertrude was still fresh from high school. This scene could have happened if Andrew didn't have dreams and Gertrude didn't hold back. They should have been married by now, happy and in love, and with happy kids. But instead, he's standing beside her. And they are now Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Paxton.

"Margaret we should really be heading to the wedding reception right now."

She nodded reluctantly then allowed Andrew to steer her outside. People are greeting them from both sides; all of them smiling and very happy. There are many more people outside; clapping at the newlyweds and congratulating them.

She and Andrew danced for the very first time. She's aware of all the eyes staring at them but she's so wrapped up in the feel of the dance, in the feel of Andrew's hands on her waist. She's too wrapped up in the way Andrew is staring at her. _Why does he have to stare at her like that? Does he know it's making her believe of things that she shouldn't believe in? That he's making her feel like this is really her wedding and that she's marrying the man she loves who loves her in return? He's being so unfair!_

"You're so beautiful Margaret." He whispered on her ear. She felt herself shiver, and she was quite sure that he felt it too because his hands gripped her waist tightly, but not too tight to hurt her. His touch felt so comforting.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." She smiled.

They didn't notice that the song that's currently playing stopped, and another song filled the whole reception area.

_For all the times I felt cheated, I complained_

_You know how I love to complain_

_For all the wrongs I repeated, though I was to blame_

"Oh my god I love this song!" Margaret suddenly exclaimed.

Andrew chuckled. "I didn't know you have a thing for overly-romantic love songs." He's smirking at her. Normally that smirk would have irritated her but today is different. She found it adorable.

She chuckled in return. "You don't have the right to judge the songs I listen to, dumbass."

"You know, they say you can judge a person depending on the songs he or she listens to." Andrew looked like he's trying not to laugh.

"So are you saying that I'm a head-over-heels-in-love kind of person?"

He twirled her around. "Well, yes. I figured that out a long time ago."

_I still cursed that rain_

_I didn't have a prayer, didn't have a clue_

_Then out of the blue_

"You did? But why?" She's staring at him with a confused look on her face.

"I saw you twice in your office reading Pride and Prejudice. I thought you're just reading it to pass the time, but when I saw you the second time with it I immediately knew that you love it. You seem to enjoy it so much." He lifted one hand from her waist and tucked a stray hair out of her eyes. "How many times have you read it?" He placed his hand back to her waist as if nothing had happened.

She couldn't seem to find the right words to speak. His touch was too . . . electrifying. His fingers barely just touched her cheek but it doesn't feel like it; it's like his touch intensified the feeling on her nerves. She felt goose bumps prickling on her arms. _Dear god what is happening to her?_

"I uhm… that book is one of my favorite books, next to Wuthering Heights. I've read it just as much."

_God gave me you, to show me what's real_

_There's more to life than just how I feel_

_And all that I'm worth is right before my eyes_

_And all that I live for though I didn't know why_

_Now I do, 'cause God gave me you._

Andrew is staring at her intently. And with a soft voice, he said "I have a confession to make."

Her heart thundered wildly against her chest. "What is it?" She licked her lips as she looked up into his gentle, brown eyes.

Andrew took a brief glimpse on her lips, and he swallowed and forced himself to look at her eyes. "I love this song too." A light breeze blew across them causing her to shiver. She felt him pull her closer, and she allowed him to do it. His body felt so warm and comforting. "I once told myself that I'll dedicate this song to the woman I promise to love forever."

"That's… romantic." She whispered.

"Yes it is. You know what; I've never heard this song again until today. I haven't heard it for months. How strange, isn't it?" He chuckled deeply and brushed another stray hair from her forehead. "This damn wind is messing your hair."

"It's fine Andrew."

"I just thought you won't like hair being so messed up since you always like everything to be organized. The first time I saw your hair unkempt was when you've just woken up and when I saw you dancing in the woods with Gammy. So you could imagine my surprise when I saw you like that, especially when you were dancing." He chuckled once again. "Never in a million years have I imagined you in that way. You're always so composed and neat. Not that I'm complaining but well, let's just say I was really surprised, and entertained as well."

_For all the times I wore my self-pity like a favorite shirt _

_All wrapped up in that hurt_

_For every glass I saw, I saw half-empty_

_Now it overflows like a river through my soul_

_From every doubt I had, I'm finally free_

_I truly believe_

She couldn't help but giggle. "That'll be the first and last times you're gonna me see me like that, mister."

"Ha! Not if I have anything to say about it."

They both laughed and fell silent. They let themselves get absorbed in the song. It all felt so nice and peaceful. She could hear the soft lapping of the waves in the ocean, the soft murmurs of the crowd; she could smell Andrew's perfume – it wasn't too strong, she hates guys who wear perfume like they emptied half of the bottle onto them. And most of all, she could feel Andrew's warm touch on the small of her back. She closed her eyes and leaned further on Andrew's embrace. It was just a little while before she felt Andrew's hand pulling the back of her neck gently into his chest. She rested her head on him. It felt so wonderful.

_God gave me you, to show me what's real_

_There's more to life than just how I feel_

_And all that I'm worth is right before my eyes_

_And all that I live for though I didn't know why_

_Now I do, 'cause God gave me you._

Andrew is having a hard time discerning his actions. Ever since he rescued her from drowning in the ocean, he had this uncontrollable urge to be around Margaret all the time. He wanted to be near her always because . . . dear god, he discovered that she's more fragile than what she appears to be. She has a lot of grief and fears deep inside her. It's what she was trying to hide to everyone, but not to him. He now knew. And he wanted to protect her from all of that. To tell her that everything's gonna be okay, that no one's gonna hurt her anymore, that she'll never be alone again. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go. He didn't know the exact moment his feelings for her changed. But he is sure that he doesn't look at her the same way anymore. Not after everything that happened.

He felt her lean her head deeper into his chest. Her hair smelled so good, like flowers mixed with an after-shower smell. He can also smell her light cologne. _She would always be a minimalist. She's not into grand things._

_In your arms I'm someone new_

_With every tender kiss from you_

_Oh must confess_

_I've been blessed_

They stayed like that for a few moments. When the song ended, they pulled away reluctantly. They shared a genuine smile and Andrew once again held her arm and steered her towards their table. He pulled her chair for her and when she was seated, he began piling food into her plate. "I noticed you haven't eaten anything since last night." He said matter-of-factly. She noticed that he did not put any meat on her plate and she smiled inwardly because of that. Andrew knew things about her during the 3 years they've been together, things that a lot of people do not know.

She watched Andrew devour the chicken on his plate. _He looked so hungry. He looked like he didn't eat much last night as well. Was he nervous too?_

She focused on the food on her plate. Last night was not the last time she's gonna feel nervous. After the priest pronounced them husband and wife, she couldn't stop thinking about what will happen tonight and the next few days that's gonna come after that. She didn't know if she could handle it; she didn't know if she could remain composed and keep her head on the game. She didn't know if she could return to their previous set-up of 'bitchy boss and assistant'. She didn't know if she still wanted a divorce. She didn't know why her heart felt like it was doing somersaults whenever he touches her.

She's in love with her husband, and she's deathly terrified of it.

**_NOTE: Song is God Gave Me You by Bryan White_**


	3. Chapter 3

Margaret stared at Andrew through half-closed eyes. _Jesus Christ the man could really talk! _He has been going on and on for an hour about the adventures he had when he was a child, the children's books he loved, the first time he fell from a tree, the first time he went home with a bleeding nose – all of it; he's narrating those stories with an animated look on his face complete with hand gestures. She enjoys this side of Andrew, and even up to now his funny anecdotes still amuse her, but tonight she's just so tired. And after making love to him earlier (because of his incessant persuasion) she just couldn't think she could stand an hour listening to him when they could just sleep. She has been reviewing manuscript after manuscript in the office, and she had to deal with pesky authors and annoying co-workers. She's perfectly happy to see Andrew, curl up in their bed with his arms around her but apparently, he chose this time for story-telling.

She gave another yawn and pressed herself closer to Andrew. His arm gently caressing her naked back is making her sleepier as each second passes and his warm breath on her forehead is like lulling her to sleep, and she couldn't help but close her eyes and finally succumb to sleep.

Margaret gave a jolt of surprise when Andrew suddenly pinched her butt, causing her to give a startled yelp.

"You're not dozing off on me, aren't you?" Andrew looked down at her with naughty eyes.

She wiped her face wearily and groaned. "Oh god honey I'm so sorry, but I'm so tired. Aren't you? Can we please just go to sleep and continue with your stories tomorrow?" She felt Andrew tugging the blanket playfully away from her, and she tugged it back weakly.

"You didn't seem tired when you were kissing me senseless earlier." He whispered as he ran his hands on her sides, eliciting unguarded sensations that are slowly spreading through her body.

She felt herself blush despite being tired. "That's because you forced me, mister smarty pants." Andrew gave a snicker after this, causing the first few sparks of annoyance to erupt inside her.

"I forced you? Ha! Now that's quite a story." He stared at her with an incredulous expression perfectly evident on his face. She couldn't blame him, though. She had been a very willing participant in the proceedings. For some unknown reason, her eyes fell to their discarded clothes lying all over the bedroom floor. His undershirt and boxers lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, and her corporate dress lay somewhere near her dressing table. And God knows what happened to her underwear! She couldn't find any trace of them anywhere, what with her position on the bed. _Had they really been that . . . wild?_

She shuddered at the thought. Never once had she envisioned herself being like this in bed with a man before. But now it's happening; it's like she couldn't hold her defenses or much less say no to Andrew when he starts being . . . well, horny. And it's not like he doesn't have the body or the charisma to provoke her into doing something against her will. _Ha! Against her will._ Who was she fooling?

Speaking of which . . .

She could feel Andrew nuzzling her neck. "You know, I always find it unfair why you always smell good even after you've come from a very long day at the office. It's just so . . . " Now he's running his lips across her collar bone. "unfair. . . and perfect."

"It's what they call taking a bath in the 21st century. And there's also a thing called perfume, in case you didn't know it yet. They're quite big right now. You should try one sometimes."

Andrew hit her gently on the head with a pillow, and then kissed her lightly after that. "Hmm . . . taking a bath, huh? You should let me join whenever you're having one, sweetie." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she couldn't help rolling her eyes. "For your information _sweetie, _you always join me the shower. You always trespass my 30-minute solitude under the water and turn it into a 45-minute one, don't you remember? Or have you been taking showers with another woman lately?"

She gave him a look that expresses victory, that kind with her smug smile and half-raised eyebrows. Andrew returned the stare with an equally challenging look, then said, "Yes, I have been spending time with another woman." Her brows shot up higher with this, while maintaining her calm façade. "And you know what _sweetie, _she's tall, blonde and leggy. But you know what she can't do?" She couldn't find the words to speak anymore, what with Andrew's free hand running the inside of her thighs. She swallowed and licked her lips. _God this man is making her crazy._

"What?" she finally breathed out. Andrew leaned in closer to her ear, then whispered. "She can't make me crazy, and she definitely cannot make me want for more even after we did _it _a few minutes ago."

She shivered, and Andrew must have felt it because she heard him chuckle. He raised his head and looked at her directly in the eyes. "Come on _pumpkin. _I've missed you so much, and I promise it wouldn't take no more than 10 minutes. I would let you sleep in peace and solitude after that." He waggled his eyebrows again while flashing a really naughty smile.

She bit her lip. If he's not _gonna_ stop soon they're not _gonna_ have any sleep tonight. And she couldn't bear the thought of having two or three hours of sleep while working. Even three cups of light cinnamon soy lattes wouldn't do her any good in that.

She touched his face and reached up his head to play with his soft, brown hair. "You know how much I want to let you have you way, but _honey_ we both know you can't keep promises when it concerns this." She gestured a hand across their bodies and laughed a little when she saw Andrew pout childishly. "And besides, I know perfectly well that we'll both be insufferable devilish creatures at the office tomorrow if we don't get any sleep tonight." Andrew is still pouting, and she couldn't help giving him a soft kiss. "Come on. I'll make it up to you tomorrow or . . . tomorrow night. We don't have work during Saturdays." She gave him a condescending smile, and Andrew brightened up a little. After a few moments, he reluctantly let her go and settled himself beside her, wrapping both his arms around her just like what he did earlier when he was telling her anecdotes about his childhood life. She settled her head on his shoulder and proceeded to draw patterns on his arm.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" She said softly.

He chuckled at this. "You're _gonna_ have to do a lot better than that to make me angry with you." She looked up at him and saw him smiling down at her.

"Like what? What should I do to make you mad at me?" He pushed stray hairs from her face then kissed her forehead. "Hmm . . . let's see. I would get really mad at you if you kill Kevin, or if you didn't take baths anymore." She giggled at this, and he couldn't help but grin at the sound of her laughter. Seeing her like this – happy and smiling – is enough to make his heart lift up with joy. "No, seriously, I can't think of anything that would make me angry at you. Maybe annoyed, but angry? I don't think so."

There were a few moments of silence after that. Then she spoke up, "Even before I threatened you to marry me? You didn't get angry at me then? When I was bitchin' you around and degrading you every time I find the chance? Are you sure you didn't get angry at me?" She said all of these in a soft tone because the memories are all too painful to relieve. Ever since she realized her feelings for Andrew she can't help but shudder whenever thoughts of her first three years of working with him pervade her mind. She was really mean that time; she's just surprised that Andrew didn't leave her and worked with another company that doesn't have a devil for a boss in it.

He spoke with an assurance in his voice. "Even before that, Margaret. Even before that." He kissed her forehead again. Another silence passed between them after that; Margaret was starting to think that he had fallen asleep, but then he spoke again with a different kind of softness and affection.

"I think why I didn't get angry with you during that time is because of my affection for you. I didn't realize it until after our wedding, though. Maybe because that's why I've put up with you for three years, why it's okay for me to fetch your lattes, or to get you Tampax, or be your number one stress and anger outlet. Maybe I was secretly in love with you back then."

Margaret felt her eyes welling up. The thought of Andrew feeling affection for her during the past years is both making her regretful – because she didn't realize it earlier – and happy.

"Andrew . . . I - I didn't know. I just . . ." she stammered as she looked up at him.

"Sshh_ sweetie. _It's fine. Ssshhh." He wiped the few drops of tears that fell from her eyes. "There's nothing to be sorry for, there's nothing for you to regret. I didn't regret any of it. I didn't regret stepping for the first time in our office building. I didn't regret pursuing for a writing career in New York. I didn't regret leaving everything I have behind in Sitka. I didn't regret when I saw an ad online for a new editor assistant in Colden Books. I didn't feel sorry for any of that, because it all led me to you. And nothing in this world would make me ever regret of meeting you, okay?"

By this time Margaret's tears are now falling freely down her cheeks, she couldn't speak. Andrew smiled, "You _gotta _stop crying, pumpkin. Or I'm _gonna _cry myself." She wiped her eyes and said, "Well I'd like to see that happen." He hugged her tighter and let his chin settle on the top of her head, chuckling. "Sorry, never _gonna _happen."

She smacked his arm playfully and Andrew held her hand and kissed it. "Seriously, _sweetie, _go to sleep. You were the one who told me earlier that we both need sleep. Or did you change your mind completely? You know I am too willing to continue what I've started earlier." Margaret couldn't help but grin at the sound of his mischievous voice.

In a more serious tone, he told her, "Go to sleep, Margaret."

"Yes, boss."

A comfortable silence followed that. And before she dozed off, she whispered, "I love you, Andrew."

She felt Andrew smile. "I love you too, Margaret. Now go to sleep."

The last thing she felt was Andrew's hand lying protectively on the small of her back, and the memory of his voice saying he loves her.


End file.
